Amid a literal fog of war on a disputed planet, a woman is thrust into battle, forced to fight in her captors' war. With an empire at her back, ready to kill her at the slightest hesitation, this slave-turned-reluctant hero must battle through an unknown enemy, scientific abominations, and truly alien terrain to uncover the truth about her identity and that of her enslaved companions. Chung's novel—told in sparse, evocative prose and expertly translated by Anton Hur—draws on the real history of Korean soldiers who fought and died in a war against Russia on behalf of the Qing Dynasty. Red Sword combines stunning world-building with a thought-provoking challenge to readers: what does it mean to wield power over others?
Bora Chung has written three novels and three collections of short stories. She has an MA in Russian and East European area studies from Yale University and a PhD in Slavic literature from Indiana University. She currently teaches Russian language and literature and science fiction studies at Yonsei University and translates modern literary works from Russian and Polish into Korean.
Red Sword is a very different category of story from the stories in Chung's previously translated short story collection Cursed Bunny. Cursed Bunny is full of shallow, delightful shockers. Red Sword is meditative, maddening, immersive, moving, and challenging. It required my participation and full commitment to its iterative and relentless story, about helpless people forced to fight a war they don't understand. The reason I say it requires "full commitment" is that the storytelling style is repetitive and confounding, and you just need to keep reading. You need to keep reading with faith. Slowly the story's profound revelations begin to reveal themselves. In spite of its scifi wrapper, the novel that Red Sword reminded me of most, in terms of its effect on me, is At Night All Blood is Black by David Diop.
Kill Bill meets Brave New World meets Bladerunner, this novel features a planet in a literal fog of war and a desperate, unceasing struggle for survival. I liked some of the themes quite a bit, but would have wanted some more depth and subtlety in the execution The distinction between prisoner and soldier is arbitrary.
There is a genre of science fiction movies, like Tomorrow War, Oblivion, Aeon Flux, Battle: Los Angeles, The Edge of Tomorrow and Cloverfield, that are my guilty pleasures. Are they well acted? Definitely not. Are they revolutionary in ideas? Most often not. Still I do enjoy them. Red Sword by Bora Chung, translated by Anton Hur kind of falls in the literary equivalent category for me. Chrisna is dropped in an alien planet, that is eerily lifeless and filled with white fog. And then she encounters monsters, or white aliens, and an unceasing fight for survival ensues.
Little understanding or world building is offered in between battle scenes, with the writing at times being quite clunky and expositional/instrumental: What the monsters were wasn’t important. The Imperials said that if they helped vanquish the monsters, the colonized would be given their freedom. She couldn’t believe everything the Imperials said. But freedom—that was a seductive word. A word that upon hearing exuded a whiff of hope. A wisp of a thing that persisted in the air around them once it was uttered, a strand of weak light they fixed their gaze on. A hope. In a way I definitely see this working better as a movie, even though then it will feel kind of cliche at times.
We have a same sex couple, Tumina and Atung and a mother who is complicit, called Isfobeddin. And two men who would be potential love interest if death wasn't raining from the sky every few pages. And rape and atrocious battles that made little sense for me, with Imperial troops being as a lethal threat as the aliens. There are questions on what it means to be human, and how far we could be commoditised in the future. In a sense it is fascinating how this book was based on the conscription of Korean soldiers by China in a war with Russia, which is definitely an aspect that gives the narrative both more realism and context.
Quotes: Why did he have to be born, and why did he have to die?
“You men are the ones who’re supposed to do the war, and we’re supposed to open our legs to you and die later. Can’t you see that?”
She wanted to live. She didn’t go as far as to think so in so many words, but she wanted, desperately, to live.
She didn’t know how to explain to someone who could not remember he had died that he had died.
There was no point in fighting a machine.
“I am not that woman. We are all different people. You can’t just make a person and have them take the place of another.”
Despite my lukewarm star rating, I actually quite enjoyed reading this, certainly more than the author's collection Cursed Bunny.
In the beginning I found it refreshing to be reading sci-fi, with its fast pacing and constant movement, as well as the puzzling out of the world, the war on the white planet the protagonist is thrown onto, to fight in a slave militia.
The fast pace turned out to be somewhat misleading. It never let up--people are always getting sliced in half and crashing their aircraft here--but it certainly wasn't action writing in a Western sense. Instead, it was repetitive, and at times pointless; but then I don't really like Western-style action, so I was okay with going along with this, especially as the confusion seemed deliberate. The protagonist's situation is unorthodox. Chapters have names like "Double Helix IV," and there is a twistiness in time and space that is never really explained or resolved, though we do learn things about our anonymous soldiers.
What I most liked was the "fog of war" aspect of the story. The protagonist doesn't know who she's fighting, or why. Neither do we. There are strong hints that the society of her enemy might be more functional and ethical than hers. She slogs through one battle after another, finding ways to deactivate and destroy them, but never gets any closer to learning who they are. I found this refreshingly realistic.
The writing was... very strange. It has the minimalism of a lot of translated Asian books, but also choices that were either translation quirks or just very odd authorial choices. For example, there are characters known as "Indigo skirt" and "Light Green skirt," which, as you can imagine, gets old fast. Luckily, they turn out to have names! But even after we learn their names, they are still referred to by their skirt colours three quarters of the time, and not in the sense of "she saw the one in the indigo skirt" but "Indigo skirt said." At one point Light green skirt even turns into "dark green robe." Anyway, that was very distracting. In a larger sense though, the sense of being other seems appropriate to this story, so maybe it was deliberate.
She hadn't shed tears when the young man died, or when the older man died. Not even when she became a prisoner of the white aliens, or when the leader of the white aliens sentenced her to death, or when the two of them, their hands tied, awaited their execution atop the embankment by the white disk. Now she cried as she walked, grasping to her chest a sword and scabbard, identical to hers, once owned by a woman, identical to her.
The man said nothing. He accompanied her in silence on this unfamiliar planet as she tearfully mourned the loss of her twin, with no remains to show for it, only her red sword in her embrace.
Red Sword is Anton Hur's translation of 붉은 칼 by 정보라 (Bora Chung), the fourth colloboration between the pair after the International Booker shortlisted story collection Cursed Bunny and a second collection My Utopia and the chapbook Grocery List.
Red Sword begins with the young woman from whose novel the perspective is told travelling to a planet in a spacehship:
소년은 아름다웠다. The young man was beautiful.
It was underlit and stuffy inside the spaceship, and no one knew what the future would bring, and she, the young woman, was afraid. She spent many days crouched in the dark with the young man. The Imperials did not say much about the enemy, only referring to them as “white monsters” that had invaded the Empire’s territory. What these monsters really were, she knew not. The only certainty was that no answer would be forthcoming should she ask.
The Imperials, the soldiers of the Empire have previously invaded and captured her home planet and she has been conscripted into an army of captive slaves to in turn fight for the Empire on a new planet.
When the emerge from the ship, or rather are uncermoniously forced out, the world that greets them is a sea of white, with no visible vegatation or habitation, and seconds after landing the young man, the two having become lovers, is literally sliced in half by a laser weapon wielded by one of the “white monsters” who appears like ghosts in the fog (장 안개 속의 유령들).
The fog of war here is literal and the woman, and her surviving companions have little idea why they are here and who they are fighting. Their adversaries' weapons and armour prove superior to the Empire's technology but surprisingly vulnerable in close-quarters combat to the sword in a red scabbard that the woman wears, and which was not taken from her by the Imperials as they didn't even recognise it as a weapon.
The story is interspersed with four expositional sections, written in the form of a mythical story, DOUBLE HELIX I-IV (이중나선 1-4), which at first seem rather divorced from the main sections, but prove to contain the explanation for the situation of the woman and her companions.
And as the woman progresses through her confusing adventures - as the opening quote suggests at times captured by the white alien adversaries; other time battling successfully against them; imprisoned by her own side even when she returns successfully from her battles; and seemingly re-encountering colleagues she thought had died, and indeed someone who resembles and even shares memories with her - her own fog starts to lift.
Although ostensibly sci-fi, the author has said the story was initially inspired by the 17th century 나선정벌 (Naseon Jeongbeol, literally Russian campaign) when in 1654 and 1658 조선 (Joseon) musketeers from the then Korean dynasty fought for the Qing Dynasty against the Russians, but also that the story ultimately became something different: (Chat GPT translation)
"2차 나선정벌에 참여했던 함경북도 첨사 신유(申瀏)가 남긴 일기 『북정록(北征錄)』에 당시 상황이 자세히 기록되어 있다. 여기에 따르면 조선군은 러시아라는 국가가 존재한다는 사실조차 몰랐으며 그저 북쪽에 사는 도적 떼 정도로 여기고 출정했다. [...] 그래서 나는 나선정벌의 이야기를 바탕으로 소설을 쓰고 싶었다. 그러니까 이 이야기에 나오는 ‘제국의 모델은 스타워즈가 아니고 나선정벌의 원인 제공자인 청 제국이다. 그런데 나선정벌을 우주로 옮겨놓자마자 문제가 발생했다. 쓰다 보니까, 쓰면 쓸수록 전혀 다른 이야기가 되어갔다. 그러나 소설이란 원래 그런 것이므로 딱히 문제라고는 할 수 없을지도 모른다. 그래서 계속 썼다."
"The diary Bukjeongnok (北征錄), left by Shin Yu (申瀏), the Commissioner of Hamgyeongbuk-do who participated in the second Russian Campaign (2차 나선정벌), contains a detailed record of the situation at the time. According to this account, the Joseon army did not even know that a country called Russia existed and merely regarded them as a band of thieves living in the north. [...] So I wanted to write a novel based on the story of the Russian Campaign. That is to say, the model for the empire in this story is not Star Wars, but rather the Qing Dynasty, which was the cause of the Russian Campaign. However, as soon as I moved the Russian Campaign into space, problems arose. The more I wrote, the more the story became something completely different. But perhaps that's just the nature of novels, so it might not really be a problem. So I kept writing."
And she has also connected her thinking to those who fought for the impeachment of the Korean President after the Sewol Ferry Disaster (세월호 침몰 사고):
"내가 아는 싸움들은 그렇게 간단하지 않다. 난세와 영웅의 관계에 관한 여러 가지 명제들이 존재하지만, 가만 보면 어느 시대나 모두 난세인 것 같다. 내가 살아가는 난세에서 내가 아는 영웅은 수천의 대군을 호령하는 장수가 아니라 끝이 보이지 않는 싸움에 뛰어들어 옆 사람의 잡은 손을 절대로 놓지 않는 그냥 보통의 평범하고 용감한 사람들이다. 그런 사람들의 이야기를 쓰고 싶었다. 그런 분들이 현실에서 승리하는 날이 오기를 기원한다. 간절히.
탄핵 가결안이 통과되었을 때 국회 앞에 모여 있던 사람들이 “이겼다! 이겼다!”고 외치던 목소리와 하늘을 향해 치켜든 수많은 주먹들을 생각했다. 그러나 한 개인은 정말로 작고, 그 개인이 던져진 세상은 크고 넓고 그 안에는 수많은 불의와 수많은 싸움들이 있었다. 그 싸움은 그렇게 쉽게 이길 수 있는 종류가 아니라는 사실을 나는 깨닫는다. 나를 지탱해주는 것은 그 안에서 나와 같은 일들을 함께 겪으며 내 손을 잡아주는 사람들이고, 나도 누군가의 손을 잡고 그렇게 누군가를 지탱하고 있을 것이다. 그런 이야기를 쓰고 싶었다. 그리고 가능하면 멋있게 쓰고 싶었다. 그래서 총싸움도 하고 칼싸움도 했는데 그리하여 SF를 가장한 무협지가 되었다. 쓰면서 재미있었으니까 후회는 없다."
"The battles I know are not that simple. There are many propositions about the relationship between turbulent times and heroes, but if you look closely, every era seems to be a turbulent time. In the turbulent times I live in, the heroes I know are not generals commanding thousands of troops, but ordinary, brave people who jump into battles with no end in sight and never let go of the hand they’re holding. I wanted to write stories about such people. I sincerely hope that the day will come when such people win in the real world.
I remembered the voices shouting “We won! We won!” and the countless fists raised toward the sky when the impeachment motion was passed in the National Assembly. But an individual is truly small, and the world that individual is thrown into is vast and full of injustices and countless battles. I realize that these battles are not the kind that can be easily won. What sustains me are the people who experience the same things alongside me and hold my hand—and I am probably holding someone else’s hand and supporting them, too. I wanted to write stories like that. And, if possible, I wanted to write them in a cool way. So there were gunfights and sword fights, and it ended up becoming a martial arts novel disguised as science fiction. I had fun writing it, so I have no regrets."
Worthwhile although perhaps sitting a little uneasily for me between science-fiction and literary fiction and not quite getting to the best of either.
Unfortunately my least favourite from Bora Chung so far, but by the end it was a super interesting and sinister concept. I found this really hard to get into for the first half/two-thirds of it. Once you get past this mark it starts to have some more interesting ideas and the plot tightens up a bit more so really compels you to finish. It just is very confusing at the beginning and takes a while to get to the point where you are understanding the plot and ideas.
It’s the first novel I’ve read from Chung and so maybe this is her style for longer books, or maybe she’s better at writing short stories. This did have echoes of ‘Your Utopia’ as it was very futuristic and strange and so I enjoyed that aspect. By the end of the novel I had really enjoyed it, I just wish that it had opened a bit stronger and kept the pace the whole way through. Maybe if the book had started at the half way point and developed further from there.
But I’d still recommend this as it’s a really fascinating and scary look at the future of humanity and some gothic ideas of the doppelgänger.
South Korean writer Bora Chung has two books out this year: this one and Midnight Timetable (not Staircase).* I hadn’t previously read Chung—even though I own Cursed Bunny and Your Utopia—so I thought I might pick up Red Sword. Also, I’m reviewing Midnight Timetable (not Staircase!) for Locus, so you know.
Whatever preconceptions I had about Chung’s work, it wasn’t dystopian space opera in the mold of Cuban science fiction writer Yoss (though not as lewd or satirical).
Captured by the Empire, a woman (we’re initially not privy to her name) is dumped with other prisoners on a planet of perpetual white fog, inhabited by large white aliens (I pictured them as the guys from Prometheus). The woman is armed with a red scabbard and sword that she wields against an enemy she’s only just met (rather fruitlessly because they’re armoured). From the get-go, the novel is a flurry of action scenes as she watches her lover cut in two by a white alien’s ray gun and then survives multiple encounters with the aliens (often saved at the last moment from their wand-like weapons). If I complained that Sylvia Park’s Luminous moved a little slowly, that’s not an issue here; if anything, it’s hard to keep track of all the slaughter.
Later, we’re introduced to an older man, a prisoner, who fights alongside the woman. Their lives are miserable, faced with the constant fear of death, and if they survive, imprisonment aboard an Imperial ship. A series of interludes interrupting all the death and violence suggests something more sinister at play, involving immortality and genetic experimentation.
It’s oddly hypnotic being assailed with the word “white”—white aliens, white wands, white fog, white rays—five to ten times per page. It makes any splash colour—the red scabbard, a green dress, the black birds (who vomit poisonous blood)—all the more vivid. It’s an effect that can only be sustained for so long before it becomes tiresome. Chung recognises this. We never leave the white planet, but the interludes include a fable about a king who wants to live forever—a key bit of foreshadowing.**
I noted Yoss, and I stick by that comparison, but there’s also something distinctly old-fashioned about Red Sword. It's like something from the ’60s or ’70s pre-New Wave, where science fiction still had spaceships and ray guns but was more comfortable with violence and sex (both the consensual and non-consensual kind)—a little Norman Spinrad or Samuel Delany.
Enveloped in a white fog—a literal fog of war—the endless fighting and killing can start to seem repetitive, to lose all meaning. But that’s the point. This is a novel about the way war, whether it’s Korean soldiers sent into battle against Russia (the inspiration for Red Sword) or prisoners dragooned into a fight against aliens on a white planet, dehumanises and desensitises those it touches, until they lose their sense of self. It’s also about the faceless few who will sacrifice everyone and everything in the pursuit of power. In other words, it’s a rather depressing and even cynical novel, and your reaction to it—assuming you can swallow the science fiction trappings—will depend on your outlook. It certainly vibed with my view of the world.
I now look forward to Midnight Timetable (not Staircase!!!).
*I keep misremembering the title as Midnight Staircase. **Having now read two books by Chung, both purporting to be novels but featuring self-contained tales, it’s clear she prefers short fiction.
If there is a book that I wish would get a movie adaption ASAP, it would be this book. It would be rated R21 in my country (not even because of the extreme gore but because there are *gasp* lesbians) but I can see the vision. Please read this book and tell me if you see it too.
In a future where a galactic empire has colonised multiple planets, a ship full of POWs lands on a white planet. The prisoners are made to fight the white aliens, and any defiance is punishable by death at the hands of the soldiers. A woman's lover gets killed by a white alien and her grief propels her through the endless procession of tragic events in her ill-fated life. From the second chapter onwards, it's foreshadowed that all the human beings involved in the frontlines of this war are clones with implanted memories. And yet, no matter how flawed the memories or how many iterations of them there are, they persist in loving the same people and desiring their freedom—that is, they persist in being human. The empire exploits these clones' innate humanity, which is ironic because they are as manufactured as they come.
Despite the speculative futuristic setting, I found the story plausible. If human beings had the ability to conquer other planets, would they not? Like for real. And if those in power could mass-produce brainwashed clones at very little cost and send them to die in wars to further imperialist goals, can anyone believe that they wouldn't? We don't need a white planet or white aliens who treat their own kind with kindness and dignity to act as foils for us right now to see that governments are quick to treat people as expendable, easily replaceable if they become problematic or resistant. The message is resoundingly clear: "Kill the Imperials."
This is an example of why I should never let reviews deter me from reading a book. This book is absolutely brilliant! The narration is repetitive and jagged in the beginning, but that will pass and the story builds to a smooth flowing pace that kept me deeply immersed, so much that I did not leave the couch, I barely moved, for 3+ hours until I finished this book completely. Some reviews mentioned that you have to pay close attention or be really invested to follow the story...it gripped me in a certain way and I was fully invested and I liked it. I cannot remember a book taking me on such a strange ride and in such a strange world, in this way. I could ponder this story for a very long time. No spoilers I cannot tell you what this book is truly about, you'll have to read it yourself, you can't begin to guess what it's about. Dear reader, I hope you enjoy.
PS: this is my first Bora Chung read.
oh, and knowing what I know now, it makes sense that the narration was jagged at the start.
Aaaaand this is one of the most beautifully crafted books to hold in your hands, the details are exquisite. A work of art.
read it on the plane to see ivana. what as bizarre book. it questioned a lot about humanity, immortality, life and all that but then sorta threw out all of the development in the final 3 pages of the book imo??? its more like a 3.25 but i am loyal to my korean baddies so its getting the 4 star
I’ve enjoyed Chung’s two collections of short stories in the last few years, Cursed Bunny and Your Utopia.
This would work well as a short story as well, but in a longer form it may appeal to science fiction fans, but it didn’t do me. There’s too many scenes of fighting and battles that they get in the way of its literate quality.
I got this on release date so I had not yet seen the reviews. The idea is really not that bad but I guessed all the plot twists quite early. The writing was not my type (was it a translation problem?) and I thought there was too much "tell" and not enough "show". I love action scenes but there are just too many in there, everything is just on full throttle from the beginning and it lacks moments of introspection so no real depth to the characters. And why were there two fell*tions scenes in the first 50 pages? Scenes that don't add anything to the story and that's the issue? I'm going to DNF this since I will be disappointed already and I know it. I consider that, at 100 pages (50%), I read enough of this book to count it in my readings and give a review.
"She didn't know how to explain to someone who could not remember he had died that he had died."
So happy to see Red Sword finally in the world. I ate it up! As a serious reader of both Bora Chung and Anton Hur, I couldn't have been more excited and in need of this release. Really, I NEEDED it! Bora’s writing is fierce and tender. She crafts a sci-fi world that feels alien yet deeply human. As always, Anton’s translation doesn’t just carry the story over to English readers but breathes with it.
Not sure I can fully string together a lot of coherent thoughts on this one without a lot of in depth analysis, so I'm just going to bullet point my immediate thoughts:
- If I understood the history correctly, the story takes inspiration from the Russian-China/Korean conflicts from the Qing Dynasty over the Amur River region and relocates it into the far future on an alien world. There are some direct parallels here in terms of soldiers, prisoners, weaponry and it forced me to learn a little bit more about the basic history to try and understand the source a bit more and how it affected the Koreans who were thrust into battle by the empire.
- The sparse prose worked really well and rather than removing any style from the writing, gave it a unique edge. I genereally loathe modern poetic/lyrical prose since it spends more time on the words and less time on the story, feelings and world. Here it expertly conveys the power struggles, the unique setting and the horror of it all whilst leaving me wanting to know more.
- The translation is excellent, however there are some issues of continuity and because the protaganist is usually referred to as "she" or "her", point of view often becomes confused.
- Some really great science fiction that discusses cloning and memory transplanting alongside the usual space ships and lasers. The aliens and monsters are uniquely portrayed and I liked the almost nihilistic twist late in that began to piece it all together.
- The flashback chapters every so often added a lot of context. It's a storytelling system I really enjoy seeing used. I also liked the addition of various interesting fables. These can often feel superfluous, but they connected up to the main story really well.
- This isn't going to appeal to traditional space opera fans. The form, style and structure is quite different and most of the story is quite focused around specific areas. It does get a bit repetitive at times early on with the same actions and locations, but it does eventually pay off. At times it almost reads like a theatrical play. I’d advise an open minded approach with no expectations.
- There's no deep character depth in the traditional sense. This isn't what the story is trying to convey. Instead it focuses on emotions, actions and reactions. I found that worked really well and defly explored themes of power and control.
Overall this was a fantastic introduction to science fiction from a country - Korea - that I had yet to explore. It eschews many western tropes and stylisms which will jar with most people looking for something traditional, big and epic, but for me this was enjoyable and thought provoking science that will warrant another read at some point.
4/4.25 for Red Sword - I can understand the lower ratings for this book, it's a very sparse, minimal science fiction book without many fantastical elements, world building, or backgrounds (but that's intentional). I personally enjoyed how the book showed how war looks like on the ground, with the pace going at a breakneck speed with action almost every five pages or so.
The book, though, really hit home for me in the final third. Red Sword has fairly easy to read and understandable messaging behind it, about how the systems of power in society impose themselves on others to fight their wars for them, to keep them in line and repressed. Some might think the book is a bit simple or obvious, but the writing was very well orchestrated and suitable to the story, and I enjoyed seeing a book people can pick up and take away its themes fairly easily.
Not a book for everyone, but one I definitely enjoyed. Bora and Anton, what a team.
there are some great ideas being explored here about selfhood and memory and empire, but I'm not sure the execution was it. the first half, I get that she's throwing us into a confusing space, but i think it could have wrapped up faster, and we could have expounded the final 3rd, which really helped bring the themes together.
I just could not get into this. It doesn't have enough going for it as a decent SF story to make it interesting. The characters are hollow, act in ways that don't really make sense, and are just kind of plopped in the middle of events without being able to really affect them. Maybe this is by design, but if so, I couldn't ferret it out. Gave up at the 40% mark.
I really struggled to get through this book. There seemed to be no cohesive through line that could be followed. the writing and prose was very different than what I am used to and I just don't think I got along with it. the ending was weird and open with no clear sense of what was going to happen or what could happen.
Toch meer fan van Bora Chungs korte verhalen. Een mysterieus begin en bewust repetitief en simpel taalgebruik verhult een vrij basic scifi-verhaal met een eindeloze opeenvolging van gevechten, met af en toe wat menselijke momenten tussendoor.
Dat is volgens mij ook het punt - maar maakt het niet echt leuker te lezen.
I already don't like reading about blow jobs and I don't want them in my scifi, especially when they add fuck all to the story or characterisation. That was one of the weakest descriptions of a relationship I've ever read, I feel nothing about this man's death or this woman's grief. The "sparse, evocative prose," as per the blurb, did this book a huge disservice. On page 24 I'm already sick and tired of the fog descriptions so I guess good job with the atmosphere.
Now I gotta choose whether to start my year off with a dnf or with what's gonna be at most a 2 star read. Joy. Happy 2026 y'all.
It's so hard to get a sense of anything in this world. How many prisoners are there? What does the world they landed on look like, other than white with fog? How big is their ship? How many colonisers are with them? What the fuck is anybody thinking or feeling at any moment? Who are these people? I know nothing. My instincts are telling me it's weird the colonisers are shooting the prisoners to get them to attack, but only because I don't get the feeling there's very many of them and they're on a different planet that's supposedly quite populated. Why cull your own ranks like that? We need more context for any of this to make sense. Floating vehicles coming out of nowhere, the narrator whose hand and leg were hurt before by scary laser weapons experiencing no issues crossing some weird alien river and holding her skirt in her hand? Which hand? The injured one or the other one? Is it healed? How does it feel? What do they eat or drink? How long will their rations last them? Is anything on the planet safe for consumption? Give us something!!!! I don't often complain about too little description but this is borderline unreadable, like hearing one side of a phone conversation through headphones playing death metal and birds squawking.
I understand that not naming anyone is another way to show the dehumanising ways of war but it's really not fun to read about.
This main character doesn't know anything and can't name anything so how does she know exactly what the bloody bird vomit does to people? There's no chance she could have seen every effect it had while trying to stay safe herself. This is so poorly written, first person limited and somehow omniscient. What a joke. And she constantly needs to be told to run away from danger or duck. Does she have any self-preservation instincts whatsoever? I think I hate her.
They know the words "biometric information" but not bomb or laser. Wtf dude.
I quit. I read up until page 51 plus the 3 remaining interludes but there's nothing good about this book and I no longer care about any of the mysteries. It's a dnf.
Bora Chung’s two collections of short stories unnerved but engaged me immensely, so it was with great anticipation when I picked up her latest translated novel.
I found it quite different from her short stories; it contained a mix of sf/space opera/thriller. An unnamed woman (whom we find out is called “Chrisna” along the way) is a prisoner from the colonies forced to fight a war on the White Planet against the White Monters for the Imperials. The territorial conflict is not exceptionally clear to me but perhaps that is not the main point of the story. There is quite a bit of vivid and gory action that would translate well onto the movie screen.
As a subjugated people fighting for a cause on a planet that is not theirs, there is some apparent parallel to be drawn between the storyverse and Korean history that I learnt from comments on the novel - most notably the Koreans fighting the Russians under the Qing Dynasty in the Battle of Hutong in 1658.
With this premise, Chung touches on the evils of colonialism and the exploitation of the conquered. Through Chrisna and her fellow prisoners, the novel questions the meaning of freedom if there is no home left to go back to.
It is to Chung’s credit that she handles the long form so well, which has always been an issue of mine with some short story writers who take on longer prose. She doles out important information about the world her characters inhabit and discover and the relationships they form, the otherworldly and frightening yet recognisable enemies they have to face and fight, all in good time and in the short expository chapters titled “Double Helix”. Strangely absent is the backstory of Chrisna, but it is possibly deliberate, and related to an important plot-point as the reader journeys with her in the story.
The fact that the novel is action-packed is a double-edged sword. Chrisna (often referred to as “the woman” throughout the novel for I suspect a reason related to the plot-point mentioned earlier) is seen in numerous combat and battle scenes that can at times seem repetitive. How many times can she be hit so badly and survive before taking on the next bludgeoning blow?
As it goes, I still felt Chung’s previous collections of short stories more my thing. Nonetheless, this was an engaging enough novel that makes me ask if there could possibly be a sequel.
I'd read well-respected Korean sci-writer Bora Chung's story collections Cursed Bunny and Your Utopia, both translated by Anton Hur, and saw promise in them; but, as a reader who strongly prefers novels over short stories, I didn't find them very satisfying. Therefore when I learned that her novel-length Red Sword (original Korean, 2016), also translated by Hur, had come out I could not wait to read it and see what she could do in a long-form work. I blew through my copy as soon as I got it (of the British Honford Star publication; it doesn't yet seem to have a US publisher), and came away feeling that the concept was interesting but the execution was so-so at best.
Even though the book, at 220 pages, is long enough to count as a novel, it does little to take advantage of the long format. The narrative is completely linear and devoid of subplots or even major shifts in setting or action, and though it begins with a sustained burst of dramatic energy, it soon settles in to plodding, repetitive rhythm. The characters, what few of them there are, are static and, apart from the heroine, Chrisna, poorly differentiated – and this is true not only of the human characters but, even more so, the aliens, whose most noticeable feature is their mysteriously ineffective use of their powerful weaponry.
The immediate setting of the story is a single seemingly uninhabited, lifeless planet, flat and marshy, everything shades of gray, and mostly white – including the suits and equipment of the aliens, though this may be a matter of camouflage. In fact the only splash of serious color is the heroine’s bright red sword (or more accurately its scabbard), which made for a very nice book cover but didn’t add much to the story. A very dull piece of world building, but I suspect intentionally so, as an off-world transposition of a barren northern wilderness on earth, and particularly Siberia, the settling (more or less) of the real-life story which inspired the novel.
The book was an easy read and held my interest from beginning to end. It was only after I finished it and looked back on what I had read that I realized how little there was to it compared to what it might have been. 3 - 3.5 stars.
Red Sword is a cold, unrelenting story. Told from the perspective of the owner of the titular red sword, it follows captives of war forced to fight on an alien planet.
Attack! Anyone who does not shall be deemed a traitor and executed!
Though set on another planet, the story draws on real historical events — particularly the plight of Korean soldiers conscripted to fight imperial wars on behalf of the Qing dynasty. The characters are nameless, the writing is stripped of description. The violence of war is constant and claustrophobic, page after page.
Even the endpaper, usually a colourful trademark for Honford Star, is colourless and translucent, a subtle but striking gesture that reflects the bleakness of the story.
Red Sword is a story of subjugation: people ruled by one power, forced to fight another. It is a story of exploitation, of colonialism and brutality. It is not always an easy read, and you might even be grateful that it’s only short. Still, it explores these themes with precision and restraint, and leaves you wanting to read more.
Red Sword is exactly the kind of book that reminds me why I love what Honford Star are doing — bold, boundary-pushing, and beautifully made.